Kissing Time

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Kissing Time
by Eugene Field

Tis when the lark goes soaring
   And the bee is at the bud,
When lightly dancing zephyrs
   Sing over field and flood;
When all sweet things in nature
   Seem joyfully achime---
'T is then I wake my darling,
   For it is kissing time!

Go, pretty lark, a-soaring,
   And suck your sweets, O bee;
Sing, O ye winds of summer,
   Your songs to mine and me;
For with your song and rapture
   Cometh the moment when
It 's half-past kissing time
   And time to kiss again!

So---so the days go fleeting
   Like golden fancies free,
And every day that cometh
   Is full of sweets for me;
And sweetest are those moments
   My darling comes to climb
Into my lap to mind me
   That it is kissing time.

Sometimes, maybe, he wanders
   A heedless, aimless way---
Sometimes, maybe, he loiters
   In pretty, prattling play;
But presently bethinks him
   And hastens to me then,
For it 's half-past kissing time
   And time to kiss again!

This work was published before January 1, 1923, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.